


Collision

by gailmarie13



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gailmarie13/pseuds/gailmarie13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Big changes are happening in Olympus, and a demigod, August, finds herself thrown right into the mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silence

I shrugged my backpack onto my shoulder to keep it from sliding off. My brown hair was plastered to my face, effectively covering my green eyes. I ignored the curious glances from people as I walked by them. It must’ve been odd for them, a girl just walking out of the ocean in a white dress and sandals.

You’re probably confused. Maybe, I should’ve started from the beginning.

\-----

“‘That moment, she was mine, mine, fair, perfectly pure and good; I found a thing to do, and all her hair in one yellow strand I wound three times her little throat around, and strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily opened her lids: again laughed the blue eyes without a stain.’” I stopped reading and looked up at the twenty-something sitting next to me. “Apollo, it’s beautiful.”

Apollo winked. “Original manuscript.”

“Where did you find it?”

“I have a lot of connections.”

I brought my face closer to his. “You are amazing.” I planted a kiss on his cheek.

I should probably explain. When I say twenty-something, I mean twenty-something thousand. Apollo is immortal. You know Apollo, of course. He’s a god. Greek god of poetry, archery, and whatnot. Quite the cassanova. Women love a man who has taste after all. Apollo and I are practically brother and sister. Well, technically, we are brother and sister. Half, anyway. 

“So, how are things with Isabella?” I asked, folding up the piece of paper and rising from my seat.

“Well,” Apollo stood, running his fingers through his curly blonde hair, “she doesn’t really appreciate Hannah.”

“Did you really think she would? That’s like introducing your girlfriend to your wife.”

“Actually, nothing like that. More like my girlfriend to my other girlfriend, if even that. They both know that nothing’s going to come out of this. I’m hardly going to make either one of them a goddess. Then I’ll have to deal with them forever.”

I never understood Apollo. He always complains about the stupidity of the women he was with, but never decided to date someone who was intelligent.

I didn’t say what I was thinking and began walking to the palace.

Apollo ran after me. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

Do you ever get that feeling where it’s like your nerves go into overdrive and you suddenly get really cold? Well, that happens to me whenever something bad is about to happen, and the second Apollo said those words, the air around me turned to ice.

I crossed my arms. It looked casual enough, but I was putting a barrier between myself and whatever it was that I felt. I looked at Apollo. “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”

“You just seem… off.”

I faked a laugh. “Don’t I always? Besides, you have god things to do. Go do them.” I playfully shoved him away from me, which seemed to ease him some.

He kissed my cheek. “Give my love to Father,” he whispered. I waited until he was out of sight and collapsed onto a stone bench. I picked up a rock and threw it off the path, watching it fall for as long as I could see it.

I should probably explain a little more. I live on Mount Olympus, where the gods live. Nowadays, it’s just this mountain jutting out of the Arctic Ocean. It’s still the most beautiful and powerful place you can ever see in this life, but very few mortals know where it is, or even the fact that it does still exist.

I live here because I’m a demigod. A demigod is a child of a god or goddess and a human. Not all demigods live on Olympus. We only live here if we have nowhere else to go. Our mortal parent’s dead, they were irresponsible, we’re too powerful, whatever. For me, my mother died during childbirth. Don’t feel bad for me, though. There was no way that she could’ve survived giving birth to something as powerful as me. That’s not pride, it’s just the honest-to-Zeus truth.

“August! I have the best news – Oh. What’s the matter?”

I looked up to see Helena, my best friend. She’d straightened her normally curly white-blonde hair and then tamed it with a gold headband. Not like the color gold. Actual gold, probably magic. She sat down next to me, smoothing out the wrinkles in her brown pants. She leaned her head on my shoulder, looking up at me with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong, August?” she asked, her tone like a child’s.

“I got this feeling. Something bad is going on.”

“August, you get those feelings all the time. I mean, you get them when a deer gets hit by a car in the mortal world. Every time a deer gets hit. Every time.”

I looked away, not wanting to admit she was right. Sure, I was always colder than everyone, but this one had felt different, stronger even.

“I don’t know, Helena. I’m just worried.”

“Oh, you’re always worried. Just relax. Ease up a little.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a daughter of Aphrodite. You’re gorgeous. Guys just flock to you and take your cares away.”

“Quit overreacting. You’re gorgeous, too.” Helena took my hands and pulled me off the bench. “Come on, we’ll go talk to your father. He’ll tell you.”

Helena pulled me all the way to the palace. As we walked up the steps, I wrenched my arm away from her. “Helena, what if he’s busy?”

“He’s your father. No matter how busy he is, he’ll want to talk to you.” She grabbed my arm again and pulled me past the pillars and through the archway.

The second we walked into the room, a gust of wind hit us in the face. It smelled like roses and cinnamon. A woman in a floor length red evening dress approached us, arms outstretched.

“Helena! August! So good to see you!” She hugged the both of us and kissed our cheeks.  
Helena scrunched up her nose. “Mom. Come on!”

“Lady Aphrodite,” I said, curtseying.

“Oh, August.” Aphrodite sighed. “Always so proper.”

I ignored her, still trying to be respectful. Aphrodite wasn’t the wisest of the gods, but at least she was nice. And fashionable.

“Yes, milady. Father taught me to be that way.”

Aphrodite laughed and turned around, her black hair whipping around her as if she were a model for a shampoo commercial. “Your father’s discussing things with your uncles in the throne room.”

“Uncles?” I asked, barely hiding my excitement.

Aphrodite laughed. “Yes, uncles.”

I knew who it was, and I was dying to see him again.

I ran to the silver door at the other side of the room, pushing it open.

The three men in the room were all around the age of thirty. One was wearing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a suit coat, another a pair of gym shorts and a hoodie, the last in sweatpants and a wife beater, sitting upsidedown on a throne made of seashell-imbedded sandstone in the midst of eleven other thrones forming a semi-circle.

The man in the suit coat was the one who saw me first. His dark eyes lit up and his hand went over his black, gelled hair. He held out his arms. I ran toward him and hugged him, not counting on him picking me up and spinning me around in the air.

“Uncle!” I shouted, laughing. 

He put me down and ran his fingers through my hair. “Still as beautiful as a diamond.”

I blushed. “Thank you, Uncle.”

The man in the hoodie walked over to me and put his arm around. He kissed the top of my head. 

“Hades, quit stealing my thunder.” He looked down and winked at me, his brown hair casting a mischievous shadow over his green eyes. 

That was a joke. That’s my father, Zeus. God of lightning and weather and, you know, the rest of the gods. So the thunder thing… Yeah, it was pretty funny.

Father put his other arm around me and kissed my forehead. “I didn’t see you yesterday.”

“Sorry, Father.”

“Were you with Apollo?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“No ‘but’s. I’ll tell Apollo to make you his goddess.”

“No! No, no, no! It’s not like that. Father, please, I don’t want to be immortal.”  
Zeus laughed. “It was a joke, August. Despite the fact that you would make a wonderful goddess of foolish decisions.”

“Father!”

“You’re a teenager. Teenagers make foolish decisions. It’s no insult to your intelligence.”

The man on the throne changed his sitting position. “Huh. August as a goddess. I could almost see that.”

“Posiedon,” I said drearily.

My uncle was immature and irresponsible. I’m surprised he could keep the ocean from intruding on, you know, the land. He’s not the god of earthquakes for no reason. He’s always breaking things. His children are no better, and he’s got a busload of them. Probably about fifteen or so. Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a lot, but I’m talking in every year. As in he has fifteen seventeen-year-olds, fifteen sixteen-year-olds… Yeah, you get the point. On the bright side, only about ten of them are living on Mount Olympus. The rest of them are wreaking havoc on the shorelines, especially down in the Gulf of Mexico.

“August.” He grinned and patted his knee, inviting me to sit in his lap.

I glanced at Father, who nodded slightly. I rolled my eyes and walked to Poseidon. I gracefully sat on his knee, not looking at him.

Poseidon rubbed my hair, messing up my braid. I raised my chin, still ignoring him.

“Aww, come here!” He pulled me closer to him, leading to a one-sided hug. I groaned, looking towards Father for assistance. He wasn’t going to be of any help; he and Uncle were laughing at my predicament. I traced a symbol in the air and pushed it out with my palm, watching it fly across the room to Father. It hit him in the neck, a trail of lightning traveling to his face. He rubbed it and looked at me. That would’ve seriously hurt a mortal, or anyone who wasn’t a god of lightning. I widened my eyes and cocked my head towards Poseidon. He seemed to get the point: I was tired of this.

“Poseidon. If you would be so kind as to unhand my daughter…”

“Aww, relax, Zeus.”

“Poseidon, I do not guarantee your safety if you do not let her go.” Father winked at me, giving me the green light.

I drew a different symbol on my palm, wincing as it seared into my skin. I pressed my hands together and then pressed them against Poseidon’s chest. He flew back from me, sparks flying through his black hair, the wind, not just the shock, pushing him back and breaking the back of the throne.

I was pushed into the air because of the force. I flipped backwards and landed softly on my toes.

“Awh! That’s my girl!” Father picked me up and kissed my cheek. “You show that tyrant who’s boss,” he whispered.

I grinned, happy that I’d pleased my Father. When your dad is the king of the gods, it’s a little hard to get his attention. But since he only has two kids, it’s a little easier for us than it is for the children of a certain other god.

Father pushed me back and looked me in the eye. He grinned. You’re my daughter. I love you, and I am so proud of you.” He flicked my chin. “Don’t forget that.”

“Don’t you love me, too, daddy?”

I hadn’t even seen Shaun walk in. He had his bag slung over his shoulder and a fake pathetic look on his face.

Shaun’s my half-brother. Child of Zeus, just like me. He’s eighteen, only two years older than me, but he has the wisdom of a man with years of experience. He came to Olympus at age twelve when his mother married a man who had a drinking problem. He abused Shaun, which surprised me, because Shaun’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met. He never gets angry and he doesn’t hold grudges, the exact opposite of me. A few years back, his stepfather had been drunk and gotten into an accident, which put him into a coma. That’s the last I heard about him, but I know that Shaun didn’t go back because Father didn’t trust his mother’s decisions from then on.

Anyways, Father flashed Shaun a huge smile and grabbed his hand as if to shake it, but pulled him into a hug instead. (Father is really touchy-feely, in case you couldn’t tell.) Shaun did everything he could to keep from dropping his bag as Father squeezed the life out of him.

Once Father let go, Shaun turned to me, holding his arms out. Despite the urge to wrap him in a bear hug, I hugged him gently, careful not to cut off his air supply. Shaun kept one arm over my shoulder as he told out father about his quest.

Basically, he had to find the yarn Theseus had used to navigate the Labyrinth. Not that anyone really needs it, but Hephaestus just wanted it for sentimental reasons. (And he wanted to make a few copies, and it’s easier if you have the original.) He faced some monsters and had one foot in the grave pretty much the whole quest, but Asclepius, the god of healing, fixed him up so he looked better than before he left. In fact, now that I remember, he was practically glowing. (Man, Asclepius does good work.)

Shaun dug through his bag until he produced a leather pouch, held shut with a chain and a padlock. He handed it to Father, who looked at it proudly.

Father laughed. “In answer to your question, yes, I love you, too.” He grabbed Shaun’s shoulder. “Now, greet your uncle before he thinks you’ve forgotten him.”

Shaun smiled and turned to Uncle Hades, completely ignoring Poseidon. Uncle clasped Shaun’s face and kissed his cheek. (I know that probably sounds weird to you, but it’s a Greek thing.)

“It’s good to have you back,” Uncle said, putting his hand on Shaun’s shoulder. “And congratulations.”

Poseidon cleared his throat. “Isn’t anyone going to say hello to me?” he complained.

“Hello to you,” Shaun said. It sounded kind enough, but if you really know Shaun, you could hear the bite in his voice, all but telling Poseidon of his distaste.

Let me correct something. Shaun hates one person. Poseidon. But not for the reason I do. Shaun had an older sister from his mother’s first marriage. Her name was Grace. She was practically his second mother and kept kids at school from bullying him. About three months before his mother had gotten remarried, the three of them, Shaun, Grace, and their mother, had gone on a beach trip. On the third day there, a riptide had caught Grace, and she was swept out to sea. They never found her. That’s the reason Shaun hates Poseidon, who, of course, is completely clueless.

Father handed the pouch to a servant girl of about twenty, who was passing through the room. 

“Find Hermes and tell him to give this to Hephaestus, but do not open it,” he told her, sending her off on her way. He looked at us, realizing he interrupted a potentially awkward moment. He hid a smile and looked at Shaun.

“Son, you must be tired. You should go to your chambers. August, why don’t you accompany him?”

I bowed slightly. “Yes, Father.” I turned to Hades. “Good-bye, Uncle. It was a pleasure to see you.” He grinned at me and bid me farewell.

Shaun and I left the throne room to find the Helena was long gone, and had been replaced by Frederick.

Frederick straightened the golden laurel wreath on his head, struggling to contain his blonde hair. He had his tongue hanging out of his mouth in a look of concentration.

“Hello, Frederick,” I said, grinning at his face.

He tilted the wreath a little until it stayed on his head. A bronze chalice was floating in the air next to him.

I pointed to the goblet. “Wine?”

“Nah. Grape juice today. Dionysus has got me on drinking probation.”

“Well, you did break his wine bottle from 1032.”

“That’s not that big of a deal. That wasn’t that long ago.”

“B.C.”

“Ohh… That explains it…”

“Your father enjoys his wine. He was saving that for a special occasion.”  
Frederick grabbed the chalice and took a long draw from it. He held it out to me. “You want some?”

“No, but Shaun might.” I turned around to find that Shaun had left, but a drachma was lying on the ground. Knowing what it was, I picked it up.

“Where’s Shaun?” Frederick asked, leaning over my shoulder.

“‘I’ve gone to my chambers. Find Trevor. He was looking for you when I came back. I’m glad I got to see my second favorite half-sister as soon as I got back. Tell Fred that I know that’s not grape juice,’” I read from the coin. I raised an eyebrow at Frederick, who gave me a sheepish grin and a shrug. I ignored it. “Have you see Trevor?”

“Why don’t you check his usual spot?”

I widened my eyes. “Frederick, you should’ve been a son of Athena!” I ran out of the room, calling out a “thank you” over my shoulder. I almost ran into another demigod, Regina, a daughter of Nemesis, goddess of revenge. (Yeah, I’m regretting that more and more.)

I ran on a narrow path around the perimeter of the palace until I reached the back. Along the wall were stones that stuck out farther than the rest, forming a sort-of repeated “Z” shape, leading all the way to the top. A pair of sandals was on the first “step”. I smiled, knowing that Trevor was up there.

I leaned down to unbuckle my sandals before I realized that my feet were bare. I climbed all the way up the stairs, realizing I was at the top right before I walked off the edge. Don’t think I’m some kind of failure. The stairs don’t run into the wall, they just end, and if you’re not paying enough attention, you fall to your death.

I stepped onto the roof of the palace. A gentle snow was falling, making the stone rather slippery. I was glad I was barefoot, otherwise, I could have easily lost my balance. (Despite the warm, sunniness of the rest of Olympus, the top of the palace – the highest point – is cold. Incredibly cold, I mean, it’s snowing.)

I spotted Trevor, sitting on the edge opposite me. His back was to me, his feet dangling over the side. I carefully walked to him and sat down beside him. I leaned my head on his shoulder and took a deep breath in. He smelled like cedar or oak wood and how it smells after a heavy rain.

“Are you smelling me again?”

I snickered and sat up. “Yeah, you always smell good.”

Trevor sniffed his shirt. “I always smell the same.”

“And that smell happens to be good.” I looked around. “How long have you been up here?” I asked.

“A few hours.”

“Anything exciting happen?”

“Well, Hedylogos tried to get Lethe to remember that they had a thing last year, but you know her.”

“She’s visiting?”

“Yeah, while Hades is in town at least.”

Lethe is the spirit of forgetfulness. She’s named after the river she comes from in the Underworld. She only comes to Olympus when Hades comes, and every time she leaves, she forgets ever being here. I guess you can’t really blame her though. She just picked the short straw.

“So, anything else?”

“Aphrodite took Lena and Marc to Olympus Outfitters.”

“Nothing new there.”

“Hermes’s caduceus broke.”

“What?”

“His caduceus broke.”

“Do you know how much trouble that’s going to cause? Packages won’t get anywhere, traffic will back up, people will have nightmares if they even get to sleep at all, thieves are going to get caught-”

“Zeus, August, calm down.”

“But… I ordered a pie.”

“It’s just a pie.”

“It was half chocolate, half key lime.”

“Okay, that actual sounds kind of good.”

“Yeah, and your dad was supposed to deliver it at,” I glanced at the sky, then down to the sundial in the courtyard in front of the palace, “three o’clock today.”

“Relax, August. He’ll get it to you eventually.”

“Eventually isn’t soon enough.”

Trevor sighed and put his hand on his forehead. “You’re so obsessed.”

“At least I’m obsessed with pie, and not a woman who doesn’t love me back.”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

I pushed Trevor’s shoulder. “Oh, Zeus. What was her name again?”

“August…”

“No, it wasn’t that. Beatrice, wasn’t it?”

“She goes by Trixie.”

“That sounds like a courtesan name.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“I’m sorry. What do the mortals call them now? Strippers?”

Trevor glared at me. “I told you not to call her that.”

“Fine. How is she, anyways?”

“She’s good.” 

“That’s good.”

We sat for about an hour in awkward silence, watching the city of Olympus as it went about its day. The nine muses were in a small open air theatre. Euterpe seemed to be trying to teach Clio to sing, and Terpsichore was working on Thalia’s dancing. The rest of them, with the exception of Urania who was looking at the sky, were arguing.

Peitho, goddess of persuasion and seduction, was trying to sweet talk a caryatid and an epimeliad who were manning a fruit and nut stand into giving her some of their food for free. (Caryatids and epimeliads are dryads of walnut and apple trees, respectively. Contrary to mortal belief, dryads are both men and women.)

A few demigods, probably Poseidon’s kids, were walking along the streets, knocking over stands. Hestia, goddess of the hearth, was running behind them, trying to fix the stands as soon as they went by.

Apollo was walking with Artemis, most likely discussing the pros and cons of dating.

Poseidon was in the weapons store, trying to find a trident that was balanced. Of course, he was breaking almost everything in the store. As I was watching this, Trevor nudged me and pointed at someone walking quickly up the street, pushing aside Poseidon’s kids.

“Look.”

It was Hephaestus, god of blacksmiths and weaponry, walking with a slight limp, due to his lame foot. Towering over everyone with his seven foot height and his fire red hair, he looked like a giant. He burst into the store Poseidon was in, fire swirling around his face. He glared at Poseidon, who stopped moving and stood stock still, staring at Hephaestus. He ripped the trident out of his hand and pointed towards the door. Poseidon skittered out of the store like some sort of rodent while Hephaestus and the store keeper began putting everything back into order.

I smirked. “Zeus, Poseidon is such an idiot.”

“Come on, August. Give him a break.”

“Not anytime soon.”

The silence fell over us once more.

After a while, I leaned on his shoulder again.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I smiled inwardly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Silence.


	2. Drowning

Helena twirled in a knee-length navy blue dress. The skirt, made of light silk, billowed around her.

"So," she grinned, flashing her perfect teeth, "what do you think?"

I crossed my arms and tapped my finger against my lip, like I always did when I was thinking.

"Don't you have one just like it?"

"No! Of course I don't! That one was made by Erotes Everlasting. This one was made by mortals." She said "mortals" like it was some divine term, holding her hands to her chest.

There isn't much human influence on Mount Olympus, but Aphrodite decided that our clothing needed a bit of an upgrade, so she's stolen some ideas - and actual clothing - from the mortals. (Also, we like their pie. Well, at least I do.)

I glanced from Helena to the other dresses on the rack. "Why don't you get one in a different color?" I asked. "What about red?"

Helena gasped. "August!" She stepped toward me. "You know that red is my mom's signature color! I can't take hers!"

"We'll, isn't blue Marc's color?"

Helena gasped again, this time holding her hand over her mouth. "You're right!" She looked in the mirror. "But I look so good in blue," she whispered wistfully. 

"What about green?"

Helena's eyes lit up. She grabbed my hands. "Oh, August! You're so right! I look just divine in green!" She snapped her fingers and the dress's fabric shimmered, turning from dark blue to a light green. She twirled again. "It's gorgeous," she said.

I simply nodded.

"Oh! But what about shoes? These shoes don't go with green." She put her foot forward, glaring at the orange shoe as if it was its fault it didn't match.

I thought for a second. "What about red? Father once said something about a color wheel the humans made up. Colors opposite each other look the best together."

Helena snapped her fingers again, and the shoes changed to a deep scarlet. "Hmm..." She smoothed down her skirt and then grinned. "I like it. It's subtle and yet bold. It's perfect. Thank you so much, August."

I held up a hand before she could hug me. "Don't thank me," I said. "Thank the mortals."

The door opened and two snakes slithered in, climbing the doorframe. Once they formed an archway, a man with light blonde hair walked in, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

Helena elbowed me. "I liked Hermes's new style choice," she whispered.

I smirked. This look was definitely much better than the middle aged man in the toga look he went for during Memory Month. (I believe for mortals, that's February. Or December. Human months just kind of blend together for me.)

"New shipment!" he called to the shopkeeper, sweeping his hand in front of him. About ten boxes appeared stacked by the counter. "Also," he looked towards us as he caught a scroll that came flying towards his face. "Zeus wants to see you two in the throne room. Ad the rackety bunch of Poseidon's kids if you see them," he said, his eyes skimming over the page. "Especially the rackety bunch of Poseidon's kids." He backed towards the door, the scroll bursting into flames in his hand. "Oh, and August? I have your pie." A pole materialized in his hand and the snakes came down from the doorframe and wrapped themselves around it. He winked and tilted it towards me. The air inn front of me shimmered. I held out my hands, and a white box dropped into them.

"But Trevor told me that your caduceus was broken," I said, rather distracted by the pie in my hands.

"Yes, well, Trevor has never been one to follow up on a piece of information." Hermes grinned again. "Also, Lena? Santa called. He wants his holiday back." He began to glow and then dematerialized into a pile of gold dust. A gust of wind forced itself through the door and blew the Hermes dust out of the store.

"Holiday?" Helena said slowly. I just shrugged.

\-----

Helena and I had picked up some forks from the jewelry stand (yes, they sell utensils there), and we made our way to the palace. We could see a group of demigods, including all seventeen of Poseidon's rascals, sitting on the marble steps. I could see Trevor leaning against the pillar, talking to Beatrice. I clenched my hands into fists, pressing them against my legs.

Helena gave me a sideways glance, then followed my line of vision. Her face changed to a look of pure hatred.

Let me explain something about friendships. If your friend is buddy-buddy with your worst enemy, that's a sign of a friendship that needs to end soon. But, if your friend hates this said enemy more than you do, then you need to carve that friendship in stone. That's why, despite our major differences, Helena and I became friends in the first place. Obviously, our friendship grew on our own accord, but in some way, our friendship is all because of Beatrice.

Helena nudged me in the shoulder. "I can kill her, you know."

"Yeah, but then Athena would have your head." Yes, you heard me right. Athena. She's Athena's daughter. Redhead with bright green eyes who can barely count to five unless she uses her fingers. And yet, she's her mother's pride and joy. Probably because of her way of manipulating others to do what she wants, because we all know its not her way with words.

I opened the box and took out the pie, leaving the box on the path. Don't worry about it, someone comes by and cleans up every few minutes.

Helena dug her fork into my pie, shamelessly taking a bite that was incredibly too large for her mouth.

By the time we arrived at the palace steps, we'd eaten a little over half the pie.

Trevor grinned at me and waved. I raised my fork towards him to acknowledge his greeting, but didn't look at him. Trevor's smile wavered, but if he sensed something was wrong, he didn't show it, and simply resumed his discussion with Beatrice.

I sat down on the stairs next to one of Poseidon's kids. He smiled at me. I hadn't met him yet, and I didn't want to judge him too quickly, so I smiled back.

He held out his hand. "I'm Jasper," he said.

I nodded towards my fork and the pie, indicating that my hands were full. "My name is August."

"Like the month?"

"Is it a mortal month?"

He laughed and shook his head, not answering my question.

I laughed awkwardly. "I was kidding." (I wasn't.) 

He looked at my pie. "That looks...interesting."

I looked down and saw what he meant. The pie was a sickly green-brown color and, at this point, was just a mess in general. "It still tastes amazing though."

He laughed, but with a laugh that seemed somewhat ironic, his brown eyes narrowed at me.

I offered him my fork. "Would you like a bite?" I asked, hoping he would say no.

He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "No, I'm fine keeping lunch in my stomach. "Thanks though." He looked at me and smiled expectantly.

Helena, who had sat down at my other side, nudged me and winked. I elbowed her in the gut, but she just laughed at me.

"He is significantly attractive, especially for one of Poseidon's kids, isn't he?" she whispered.

"Oh, be quiet, Helena. You don't know anything," I remarked, elbowing her again.

Hestia walked through the archway, holding a scroll and a quill. "Demigods! The Olympians will see you now."

We all filed through the archway and waited for Hestia to do a head count and cross our names off the scroll. She held out her hand and the door to the throne room swung open.

All twelve of the Olympians were seated on their thrones. Uncle's throne, made out of shadow, was in between Father's and Poseidon's. Hestia disappeared and reappeared at Father's side.

Hermes was holding a clipboard and staring at it as if it held the key to his life. Aphrodite's eyes were tinged red. Hephaestus was tinkering with a few gears. Artemis kept rebraiding her hair. Plants were tangling and untangling around Demeter's feet. Ares was sharpening his knife. Dionysus was playing with a bowl of grapes. Athena was sketching out battle plans on a floating piece of paper. Hestia clenched and unclenched her fist as a ball of fire appeared and disappeared. Hera was the only one leaning back in her chair, looking completely at ease.

Apollo was staring at me soulfully, trying to get my attention. I made eye contact with and he widened his eyes, looking from Father and then to the floor. I shrugged at him, not getting his message. He shook his head and leaned back, biting his nails.

Father cleared his throat. "Demigods. This is a very important council meeting, and I need you all to take this seriously." He looked to Ares. "You may take the stage."

Ares nodded. His black hair was cut into a short buzz cut, and his bright blue eyes seemed to glare at each and every one of us individually. His tall, muscular figure and intense gaze intimidated most people, but behind his arrogant and selfish nature, he was actually kind of nice. Like a giant teddy bear. An armed teddy bear. With weapons. Deadly weapons.

Anyways, Ares cleared his throat and straightened his tie. "You all know that the human world is full of challenges, which is why we only send you there for quests." 

We all nodded, though none of this knew where this was going.

He continued. "When you turn 18, you are given a quest into the human world. Then, once you turn 21, you are given the option of remaining here or living there. Unfortunately, the survival rate past 22 is less than 1%. To this, Athena and I have come up with a solution that has been agreed to be put into action." He leaned against the back of his throne and pulled out his knife again.

Athena grabbed the paper out of the air and tossed it over her shoulder. "Let me get to the point." She rolled her head to crack it. "Every demigod is being sent to the human world. Permanently."

The reaction was mixed. Some of us were in shock. Some were angry. Some were in denial. Some saw it coming. Some freaked out as if the world were ending. Me? Well, all I remember is making eye contact with Father amidst all the noise and confusion. He looked nonchalant enough, but his eyes betrayed him. It was like they were apologizing for this. I shook my head. This wasn't something that I could easily forgive him for.

Someone nudged me. It was Shaun. I gripped his hand until his knuckles turned white.

"It's gonna be okay," he whispered.

Athena stood up. "Demigods! Come to order!" Nothing happened. "I SAID 'ORDER'!" We all went quiet. "You will all be transported to different parts of the world. You will speak the language necessary to survive in the country in which you are. Poseidon will be the one transporting you." She sat back down.

Poseidon grinned. His trident materialized in his hand. He opened his mouth to say something, but Artemis stood up.

"I will not let my maidens leave unaided."

"I respect your defense of them, but the decision has been made," Zeus said quietly.

"I understand, Father. That is not what I was talking about." She waved her arm and a silver backpack appeared on every girl's shoulder.

Apollo coughed loudly and snapped. A golden duffle bag appeared on the floor in front of every guy. I noticed that the zipper on my bag turned gold.

Poseidon rolled his eyes. "Is everyone done here? Circle of sharing over?"

"Poseidon. Please, show some compassion. They're leaving their home," Hades said.

Poseidon nodded. "Yeah... I care..." He slammed his trident against the stone floor and the smell of salt water filled the room. Water began to drip from the ceiling. The drips became streams, and the streams became a wave of water.

I felt my hand slip out of Shaun's. I screamed his name, but no sound came out. I reached for him, but he wasn't there. I couldn't even see him any more. 

For the first time, I felt completely alone. I couldn't breathe, and I didn't know if it was because I was in shock or the fact that I was drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading again! Chapter 3 coming sometime soon. Hopefully in the following week.


	3. Swoon

I opened my eyes, but the salt stung them. Everything was blurry and dim. I didn't know which way was up. Everything was backwards. Then, suddenly, I broke the surface.

Air. It filled my lungs like... well, air. I treaded water for a good five minutes, gasping in oxygen as if I would never breathe it again. Not for the last time, I cursed Poseidon.

The water was warm and the sun was blinding. The faint drone of voices and laughter hit me like a wave. Followed by another wave… an actual one… of water.

“Hey you!”

A boy in some sort of black suit, somehow floating effortlessly above the water, waved at me. He leaned down and paddled his way over like a dog. I was having difficulty keeping my head up and was spitting out water as he came closer.

“Are you… a son… of Poseidon?” I asked, spewing water from my mouth like a fountain.

“What was that?” he asked, still drifting towards me.

“Son of Poseidon? Are you one?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, a mythology joke.” It was then I noticed that he was straddling some sort of flat, oval-ish shaped, board. I felt like a fool.

“Mythology?” I said, after I recovered.

His expression was confused. “Yeah, like Zeus and Poseidon and stuff. You just referenced it. You should know what it is.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not mytho-” I stopped, realizing that he was a mortal. He wouldn’t and couldn’t know that it was real. I decided a change in subject would be the best.

“What’s that… thing you’re floating on?”

He looked down at me with an even more confused look. “You don’t know what a surfboard is?”

“Oh, well, of course I did. I just didn’t recognize it… in the water… because of the water… blocking my view,” I stammered, trying to redeem myself.

He grinned. “Sure,” he said slowly. He raised his eyebrows and pointed at me. “I came over here for a reason.” He paused. “God, sorry, I do this all the time.”

A wave pushed my head under the water. I waved my arms around until I hit air and coughed.

“Oh! That’s what it was! Two things actually.” His pitch raised and lowered awkwardly, the way Shaun’s does sometimes. Well, did. “One, why are you wearing a dress and a backpack in the ocean?”

I looked down, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, but he interrupted me.

“You don’t look like you really belong in the water.”

I smiled. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“I can take you back to shore,” he offered, holding out his hand.

I tried to take it as gracefully as I could, as a daughter of Zeus should, but I did a sort of flip in the water as another wave came by.

He smirked at me and paddled closer. He could easily kick without moving his foot a far distance.

“Be careful,” he said. “It’s easy to flip over a board.”

My hand was on his surfboard when he said it, and I froze. I didn’t want to knock him off.

He noticed and smiled. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind if I get a little wet.” He held out his hand again, and this time, I was able to take it without making a complete fool of myself.

As he helped me onto the board, he leaned opposite the side I was pushing down to get up so that I didn’t flip it over. I straddled the board behind him, stock still, trying not to throw my balance more towards one side than the other.

He laughed. “Just relax,” he said, turning his head to look at me. He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. “I never caught your name.”

“I am August,” I said quietly. My cheeks felt hot, and I looked down so he couldn’t see them. Now that I was looking at him, he reminded me of Jasper, even though I barely knew either one of them. He had the same curly blonde hair that was swept back away from his face, the same gray eyes that reflected the water, the same long, bony fingers, the same bright teeth that could blind someone.

He didn’t seem to notice my awkwardness and grinned. “Like the month, got it. I’m Jason.”

Ja-son. I mouthed his name slowly. “Like the Argonauts.”

“Yeah,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. I didn’t understand why his attitude changed so quickly.

He paddled to the shore, using the waves to push the board further in less time. As we got closer to the sand, my cheeks grew hotter and hotter. I started to feel faint, and I gripped either side of the board so as not to fall off. I’d read mortal books where the heroine falls for the boy and then actually falls unconscious, but I’d never put effort into trying to be one of those girls, and I had no desire to fall face-first into the water.

Once the water got shallow enough, he helped me off the board and picked it up, carrying it in one arm, steadying me with the other. The water was somehow rougher than it was out deeper, and without him I would’ve been knocked down.

My dress was sticking to my legs as the wind tried to tug it off. My hair hung over my eyes, which were stinging and probably bloodshot. I noticed people glance in our direction, but Jason kept leading me past them. 

He led me to a wooden bridge, which was new to me. Olympian bridges are made of stone, not wood, which can easily break. Past the bridge and back onto stone, a deep black rough kind.

“What is this?” I asked quietly, staring at the ground. “What kind of rock is this? I have not seen it before.”

“You mean asphalt?” Jason looked shocked. “Where the hell are you from? The bottom of the ocean?”

I glared at Jason and felt my face grow hot. “How dare you imply that I am the offspring of that irritating, capricious, lax piece of gulfweed!” My hand moved to my forehead as daggers of pain shot to it. I fell to my knees, but Jason’s valiant effort to catch me was in vain. My arms went up to protect my face, and my bare elbows slammed into the asphalt, as Jason called it.

Red tendrils snaked into my vision as it tunneled, my head growing faint, and my body weak. Whatever this was, it was much worse than a simple adolescent swoon.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come. Please review so that I may improve. Thanks for reading!


End file.
